


Later

by robotwitch



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 10:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14768291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotwitch/pseuds/robotwitch
Summary: Percy and Vex's later talk... you know, after.





	Later

This isn’t real.  Lying in anticipation of a battle where they are sure to meet their end.  Vex’s fingers absently stroking his chest; Percy’s caught in her hair, loose now, the feathers fallen and scattered across the floor.

This couldn’t possibly be real.  They didn’t even make it beyond the bottle of Courage.

“You’re growing tense, darling.”

“Am I?  I suppose I keep expecting to wake up and for this to have been some sort of dream.  Or we’ve already died a horrible flaming death, but this is far too perfect to be whatever afterlife I am doomed to.”

Vex laughs at him, the sound is too sweet for this to be the hell that awaits him.  “We’ve both died before, so we know this isn’t it.”

“And my dreams are typically nothing but darkness and shadow, so we’ll rule that option out as well.”

She hums contemplatively, preoccupied by her hand traveling towards his collarbone.

“So much for our talk then.”

Vex frowns, so he must sound disappointed, though he is far from it.

“Don’t get me wrong – the gesture was –” Percy clears his throat.

She presses her finger to his lips, “It was my turn.”

“Pardon?”

Craning her neck, Vex looks Percy dead in the eye.  Even without his glasses, the stare is piercing.  Tonight, he was her prey and how easily he was felled.

“It was my turn,” she repeats.  “In the forest, you let me ramble like a fool –”

“You didn’t sound like a fool to me,” he stammers out, earning him another cross look.

“You let me make a fool out of myself and lose my courage,” she insists.  “But I made the first move.  And then you kissed me – you made your move and left me hanging.”

Percy grasps for an excuse.  There was never any time.  They were preoccupied.  It’s not good enough to make up for the lost time between the forest and now.

“You took so long to come back to me ‘later’, I realized, it wasn’t your turn.  _I_ was holding us up.  When you came to the door, I thought, ‘He can talk all he wants _later_ ’.  It was my turn, so I made my move.”

“It was certainly a good one.  You’ve backed me into a corner.”  Percy breathes deep, “And it _is_ later.  Your move or mine, that is still true.”

He wishes he could better see the expression on her face, but he dare not move her.  He rather her chest pressed to him to feel their hearts beat in time than risk her moving an inch away.

“There’s much in my life I have to atone for – don’t argue – it’s the truth.  Genius or not, I made a deal with a demon and unleashed a terrible weapon on the world.  I continually abandon my sister to the duties of lordship while I gallivant about, pretending to be a hero.  I’ve hurt you…”

Percy begins to shift, not caring to remember Vex’s lifeless body beside him.  But her pulse is steady; Percy recognizes it as the calm of setting his sights and his aim being true.  She must feel the same in battle, that surety her shot will not miss.

“Where is this going, darling?”

“I was ill – Orthax clawing at my soul.  Unable to express my deep admiration and unworthy of your affection.  It has only been very recently that I’ve been able to change that.  And it is still inadequate for you.  I don’t remotely understand what, if any, part of me you’ve seen some decency in and chosen to give your heart to, but you’ve had mine since the beginning.”

His declaration hangs in the air; when he can’t bear her eyes boring into him any longer, Percy turns away.

Vex reaches up to cup his cheek, “Give me some credit; my heart is not so easily won.  If you were exactly the man you’ve described, we would not be having this conversation, now or ever.”

Percy’s never considered how callused Vex’s fingers were before.  Even as she tries to speak comfort to him now, it is all he can fixate on.  He’s never seen her shoot without a finger glove, but there must have been a long time she did not use them at all.  He’s never seen her use a thimble whilst mending, but then her fingers are so practiced she never pricks herself either.

The hands of a lady should be smooth, or so he once believed.  But the idleness required to maintain softness which would not suit Vex’ahlia.  She must endure the roughness or she would not be able to anchor Fenthras’s bowstring; the knocked arrow would be let loose before she had a chance to aim.  Even with the kickback from Bad News, guns do not require so much strength to fire.

But Lady Vex’ahlia, Baroness of the Third House of Whitestone and Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt, and her unladylike behavior are not what fixates Percy on her hands, so much as where they rest on his cheek.  It is her same anchor point.  And he wonders if maybe, just maybe, she might have the strength to make sure he doesn’t backslide.

She certainly has enough confidence in his own growth.  As long as Vex is his heart’s protector, Percy might just be able to forgive himself.

“Then I consider myself lucky we are having this conversation.”

“And you are not the only one with self-doubts, you know.”

Percy flinches.  Vex is returning the favor he once rendered her beyond the walls of Syngorn.  He supposes they both see each other in better light than they see themselves.  But shadows and all, their hearts are given in spite of such things.

“I do,” he answers simply.  Sometimes that is best.

“Good.”  Her fingers slide off his jaw and Vex hangs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the discarded bottles.

Grabbing the Dire Heart, she pulls herself back up on the bed and passes it to Percy.  The splash of Courage that is left is still within reach on the table; she takes it for herself.

Toasting, “To later.”

“To after the dragons,” Percy agrees.

The bottles clink together, but instead of bringing the bottle to her lips, Vex pulls Percy back into her.  A coy smile lights her eyes.  “What happened to not talking about dragons?”

Percy is too pleasantly distracted to think about how he broke his own rule for the night.  “We can talk about that later.”


End file.
